Something For the Rest of Us
by cherryredxx
Summary: Fifty days, fifty entries. Characters, genres, and eras may vary.
1. Help

Here is another collection of one-shots and drabbles (all of which are standalone ficlets) that are based off prompts that come from the 50 Day of Inspiration Competition. Hopefully I will be able to update every day! The characters and pairings throughout these stories may vary, as will the genres, but bear in mind that I have a tendency to Draco/Ginny-ify everything that I write. :)

**Day 1 - **Character action: A character must use a quill.

* * *

Hermione had skipped dinner for the second day in a row, but for good reason. The library was generally empty during dinner time, and with her workload, a quiet environment was simply the best for revising. The day before had been an extremely productive one, and so she decided that another day in an empty library would do her marks a lot of good.

What she didn't count on was that someone else would have the same idea.

The chair across from her was pulled from the table. With a deep sigh, and without even bothering to look up from her homework, she said, "If you're here to annoy me or insult me, then I suggest you leave now." Hermione continued to scribble away with her quill.

"I'm going to shock you, Mudblood," he said. "I need your advice."

"I consider 'Mudblood' to be an insult," she replied, finally looking at him. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Are you deaf? I said I need your advice."

Hermione laughed out loud before returning to her work. "Right, my advice. That's rather amusing, actually."

The blond sighed out loud. "Listen, Granger, if you want to be a bigger person than me and have me owe you a favor, then stop being such a silly bint and just listen to me."

Gently, she set down her quill and crossed her arms over her chest. It was strange to even _consider_ that Draco wanted to have any kind of civilized interaction with her, let alone ask her for advice of any kind. It was no secret that the pair of them did not get along well, but he did look like he sincerely wanted to ask her something. "All right then, Malfoy, you've got my attention."

Without hesitation, Draco blurted, "Iwanttoaskginnyout."

"You want to, what?"

"I want to ask Ginny out. On a date," he clarified.

Hermione nodded slowly and pursed her lips. "And you'd like me to put in a good word for you, is that it?"

He looked annoyed. "No, I want you to tell me about her so that I know more about what she likes."

"You do realize that Ron would hate this idea, don't you? So would Fred and George. They are all really protective of her and none of them actually like you."

Draco looked more annoyed. "Listen carefully, Granger. I cannot get that girl out of my head. I had a dream about her last night, and then this morning I sat down for breakfast and, before anything else, I noticed that she was missing. So I looked down at my oatmeal, and I remembered seeing her eat oatmeal once and I bloody _smiled_ at my sodding bowl of oatmeal! It's ridiculous, but I just need to talk to her, and I know that if I don't get help first, she'll hex me."

Hermione chuckled. "She probably would." She sighed. "But you actually do sound like you want to get to know her."

The blond looked hopeful. "So you'll help."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll help."

* * *

I know, this is open-ended and not the most exciting read, but maybe I'll continue it at some point throughout this collection.


	2. Puppies and Education

**Day 2:** Quote: "A dog is the greatest gift a parent can give a child. Okay, a good education, then a dog" - John Grogan

* * *

Ten-year-old Lily looked at Harry like he had multiple heads. "Daddy, what is that and why is it in the house?"

Harry frowned. "It's a puppy, dear."

The girl looked from her father, who had not completely answered her question, to her mother. "Mummy, why is that puppy in our house?"

Ginny bit her lip in an unsuccessful attempt to suppress a giggle. "Your father bought you a puppy, dear. It's to keep you company while your brothers are away at Hogwarts."

Lily did not look satisfied with this. "Why?" she asked, a hint of disgust present in her voice.

"What do you mean?" Harry exclaimed incredulously. "A dog is the greatest gift a parent can give their child." He paused. "Okay, a good education, then a dog."

The young girl stared blankly at her father again and then back to her mother. "Okay dad. Whatever you say."

She left the room without the puppy, leaving her father confused and her mother trying to hold back her laughter.


	3. Never Again

**Day 3:** Word: Negative

* * *

Scorpius put his arm around her shivering form. They sat together on the floor of the bathroom, holding anxiously onto the tiny white stick in her hand. The two teenagers were both nervous, both knowing that this was going to be a defining moment in their lives. This tiny, miniscule minute of waiting was going to determine their futures and how they spend the rest of their lives.

Lily curled her knees up to her chest as she leaned into her boyfriend. "I can't believe this is happening," she whispered as she attempted, and failed, to keep from crying. "My parents are going to kill me."

The blond pressed his lips to the side of her head. "I know the feeling," he replied, pulling her even more closely against himself. "Have you met my father?"

A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. She _had_ met his father, and she knew that the older blond man would react terribly to this news. She was also certain that his father would hate her, that her parents would disown her, and that her brothers would attempt to kill Scorpius. She didn't want any of that. She loved him, and he loved her.

It all came down to the little white stick that she held in her hand. Sixty seconds, it said, but she was sure that she'd been staring at it for several hours. That's how it felt, at least. She stared at it, her mind reeling with thoughts of what could happen to her _if_. Subconsciously, she pressed her tiny body against her boyfriend more firmly, both needing and wanting to be close to him. Somehow, even though being close was what created the problem, it was the only thing that made her feel like she could get through this. _They _could get through anything.

And then it happened. The tiny white space turned to red.

"Red!" she exclaimed. "What's red? What does red mean? Don't you have the box? What does red mean!"

The blond boy shook his head in amusement. "Red is negative."

Lily stared at him for a long moment before wrapping her arms around his neck. Relief flooded through her as they shared their embrace. It was going to be okay after all.

They both got to their feet and left the room. His arm was slug loosely around her shoulders while hers went around his waist. "Just so you know," she proclaimed as they emerged from her house and into the garden, "I am never having sex again."


	4. Distinction

**Day 4:** Word: Till

**A/N:** This is sort of a Buffy crossover, though there are no characters from the Buffyverse. It's just a reference, really. Also, the last bit of dialogue is shamelessly stolen from the show, though I did tweak it significantly. Just the essence of it is in there really! :)

* * *

Sometimes the distinction between what was right and what was easy was too much for her.

She padded through the house and into the bedroom of her son. Luca. His white blond hair shone brightly from the light of the moon and his tiny body was curled into a ball under his blankets. She entered the room and bent forward to place a kiss on his temple. No matter what, she would always love her little boy. "Mummy loves you," she whispered against his cheek. "Mummy loves you _so_ much."

The house was quiet, and so when she left the room and ran face-first into her husband, she was surprised. "Draco!" she exclaimed quietly, placing a hand over her heart. "I thought you were asleep."

"I was," he said, nodding for emphasis. "But I felt the bed shift when you got up."

She smiled at him. "Oh. I didn't mean to wake you. I just wanted to check on Luca."

"Don't lie to me," Draco hissed. "You were saying goodbye, weren't you?"

Her face fell. "Draco, I have to," she replied grimly. "It's not a choice, and it's not something I want to do. It's what I was born to do."

"Rubbish! There are a million girls across the world who are like you, who could easily pick up for you. You are _choosing _this, Ginny! You are _choosing_ to leave your family."

Coldly, she whispered, "I never expected that you would understand, but I did think that you'd support me."

"You're choosing to abandon us." The blond man fell to his knees and his hands went to her waist, gripping onto her for dear life. "I am begging you, Gin. We need you. We need you more than anyone else needs you. You're supposed to protect people, aren't you? Why can't you start with us?"

She felt an awful pang at her chest. "It just isn't that simple. Please don't do this to me."

He pressed his face against her abdomen, allowing himself to cry for the first time in years. The thought of losing her – his wife, his best friend, and the mother of his only child – was too overwhelming. Deep down, he understood what she was doing. On some level, he knew that she was right, that she didn't have the luxury of choice. But on the surface he didn't care. He was selfish.

Ginny threaded her fingers through his hair as she felt him kiss her stomach. "Promise me that you'll take care of yourself and Luca."

The blond got to his feet and pressed a hard kiss to her forehead. "I will, Gin," he said, his voice steadier than she expected. "Promise that you'll always be my girl."

She bit her lip. "'Till the end of the world."

He watched as she walked away, out of the front door and into the night. This was what she was born into, this was what she was destined for. There was nothing he could say that would change her, and there was nothing she could do to make him stop loving her. But in the end, she would always have to choose, and he would always be second.


	5. Reflection

**Day 5:** Song: Live to Party – Jonas Brothers

* * *

Hermione stared at her reflection for a long time, wondering if she was making a mistake. No one had ever seen her look this way. She always had her bushy hair and completely unmade face and ugly, plain clothing. That's what she was, truly. A plain, ordinary, and simple girl who no one would give a second glance to normally, not even her best friends.

Her periwinkle-blue robes were a dream. She'd never worn anything so beautiful before, never owned anything so elegant. But something just didn't sit right for her. She was going to a Ball with someone so handsome and dreamy that she knew half of the girls at the school would be jealous of her, and she knew she should be happier than she was.

But she couldn't be. The one boy she wanted would not be the one whose arm she was on. He'd be with someone else. No matter what, she'd be alone because she wasn't with the boy she cared for.

It was too late to go back, though. She exited her dormitory and proceeded to enter the Great Hall. She spotted Krum, her date, but not until after her eyes had already found Ron. She smiled at Viktor, knowing how pleased he was to see her looking so beautiful, but her smile was for her best friend because, in that moment, she knew that Ron had finally seen her.


	6. Love Lost

**Day 6:** Quote: "The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco" - Mark Twain

I had a difficult time with this prompt, so the reference to it is very vague.

* * *

Her mother had told her once, "Lily, you mustn't tell anyone. Not your father, not your brothers, not your uncles. No one else would understand."

And she had obeyed her mother, but she was still intrigued by him. Her mother's friend was a mystery – dark and cynical – but this was what drew her to him. He seemed to know her mother extremely well, even more than her father did, and Lily often wondered, especially when she got older, if their relationship was more than just a friendly one. But she never questioned it aloud, only pondered it to herself.

There was a fight once, between her mother and father, and afterwards she couldn't help but notice that her mother never visited him anymore. Her father must have found out and put a stop to it, and Lily didn't know how to feel about it. She felt a bit betrayed by her mother, angry at her father, and even more intrigued by her mother's friend.

Years later, she saw him again. He was different. Before he had always had a polished appearance and always dressed in expensive, flattering clothing. But not anymore. He was scruffy and looked almost unclean, but he was still unmistakably _him_. Even well into his fifties, he was still unfairly attractive and seemed to have barely aged at all.

With caution, Lily approached him. He was sitting at a table outside a café, reading the Daily Prophet and smoking a cigarette. She took a seat across from him and he looked up. "Sir?" she offered cautiously. "I know you probably don't remember me, but –"

"Your Ginny's daughter," he said, cutting her off, but not rudely. "I could never forget that face. You look just like her."

Lily blushed and looked down. "Mr. Malfoy, I was –"

He cut her off again. "Call me Draco," he said, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "'Mr. Malfoy' is my father."

She smiled. "Draco. I was wondering what happened. You used to be so close with my mother, and then all of a sudden you were never around." She bit her lip. "Were the two of you…"

"No. She never had an affair with me. She has always been hopelessly in love with your father."

"So then why did you stop seeing her?"

Draco smiled at Lily. "How old are you now, love?" he asked.

"Thirty."

"The last time I saw you, you were sixteen, weren't you?"

Though it was stated as such, it was not really a question, and Lily knew that. "I was," she confirmed.

"That's how old I was when I fell in love with your mother. She loved him, but she was never willing to let me go until he found out. He told her that she wasn't to see me anymore or else they were through. Did you know that?"

Lily shook her head. "I didn't know anything."

"I have never fallen out of love with her, never stopped thinking about her, and every damned day that has gone by, I've wondered if she even remembers who I am anymore." He took another long drag from his fag. "That first summer that I didn't see her was the coldest time of my life."

She didn't know how to respond to him because, even though she was much older and much more experienced than she was the last time she'd seen him, Lily still didn't understand what it was like to be in love. She felt a pang in her chest and wondered if it were really true that it would be better to lose love than to never know love.

Another long look at him told her that she was far luckier than he.


	7. Fractions of an Inch

**Day 7:** Word: Accuracy

* * *

She held up her back elbow and used her other arm to aim. With careful precision, she released the bow, and the arrow flew across the field and landed only fractions of an inch away from the center of the target.

"Not bad."

She turned slowly, knowing that voice anywhere. "Thanks," she responded curtly. "What do you want?"

He smirked, eyeing her up and down casually. "Just wanted to see you; that's all," he drawled.

"Fine, you've seen me. Now please get out."

Of course he didn't listen. He stood behind her, running his long fingers through her red ponytail. "You need to lift your elbow a bit more when you're aiming or else you'll never get your perfect bull's eye."

"I don't need your help, Malfoy," she spat. "My accuracy is fine."

"Fine, Weasley," he responded carelessly as he sauntered away.

Once he was clearly out of earshot, she began muttering under her breath about stupid gits who needed to mind their own business.

She did, however, lift her elbow a bit more.


	8. Saving the Princess

**Day 8:** Character action: A character must use a stick.

* * *

"And I will rescue the princess and slay the dragon!" James proclaimed boldly. "And in the end, good will triumph over evil, and we will all live happily ever after!"

"Not if I can stop you!" Albus, the dragon, retorted. He raised his sword – a long, crooked stick – and began dueling animatedly with his older brother.

Meanwhile, Lily sat atop the tree house yawning. She, of course, played the part of the princess. "Daddy, can I come down now?" she yelled. "My dress is getting ruined."

"You can't come down until I save you, Lily!" James responded irritably, momentarily ignoring his brother and their duel. "If you come down now, I'll have no one to save by slaying the –"

Albus took the opportunity to smack his brother over the head with his stick.

He was the dragon, after all.


	9. Happy

**Day 9:** Quote: "It is not easy to find happiness in ourselves and it is not possible to find it elsewhere" - Agness Repplier

* * *

The bar was nearly empty, but she stayed. With a single gulp, she threw back her fifth shot of Firewhisky. The searing red liquid was finally going down more smoothly, and the pain had finally started to subside, or at least it had started to dull. She couldn't be completely sure in her state of intoxication.

Someone sat beside her. Her oldest brother.

"Gin, what are you doing?" Bill asked, eyeing the five empty shot glasses. "You're going to make yourself sick."

She tapped the table twice, signaling to the bartender that she wanted another. "That's what I'm counting on," she replied, her voice slurring.

"Does Harry know you're here?"

Ginny laughed out loud, a harsh sound that felt and sounded completely foreign to her. "I doubt he'd care where I am," she answered coldly. "I stay out of his business and he stays out of mine. We're finished, Bill. We just don't know how to tell the kids." She downed her sixth shot.

Bill took her arm, forcing her to look at him. "Ginny, I'm sorry that your marriage didn't work out," he said seriously, "but this isn't the way to get your life back."

"I hate my life," she hissed through gritted teeth.

"Listen to me." He gripped her shoulders and mournfully eyed her broken appearance. "You deserve more than this, Ginny. More than what you've settled for. I get that you're miserable, but your life does not have to end with your marriage."

"You kidding me? These drinks, these shots of this nasty, vile liquid, make me happy. This is the happiest I get these days, Bill. This is me now."

Bill looked at his sister for a long moment before getting to his feet. "You could be happy, sis, but this," he paused, gesturing towards the bar and the empty glasses, "this isn't the way."

She watched him leave, drowning her sorrows in her seventh drink. Somewhere inside she knew that he was right, but it didn't matter. She didn't even know herself anymore.


	10. Help, pt 2

**Day 10:** Character action: A character must read a book

This is a continuation of Day 1's story with Hermione helping Draco to woo Ginny. :)

* * *

For the second time in as many days, Hermione found her dinnertime study session interrupted. Much to her dismay, it was also interrupted by the same person. She sighed heavily as she set down her book and stared across the table at Draco Malfoy. "Yes?" she requested testily.

He tapped his fingers against the table in a very un-Malfoy like indication of nervousness. "Well?" he asked impatiently. "Did you find anything out?"

"Yes."

"And?"

Hermione sighed a second time. "Draco Malfoy, I swear to you that if this is some elaborate scheme to piss off Harry and Ron, that I will personally castrate you with a plastic knife?"

Draco lifted an eyebrow in amusement. "Impressive, Granger." At the pointed glare he was receiving, he raised his right hand. "I solemnly swear that I am not trying to piss off Potter and his boyfriend."

The brunette rolled her eyes. "I suspect that's the closest you'll get to addressing them respectfully, so I suppose I'll just have to go with it."

"You would be correct."

She smiled slightly and leaned forward in her seat. "Okay, I asked her the questions on your list."

"And?" he asked, obviously losing patience.

With a slight smirk, she said, "And you were right. She is more like you than I thought." Hermione slid a small piece of parchment from between the pages of her book and handed it to him. "I used a Quick Quotes Quill to record all of her answers as we were speaking. Everything you need is here."

After glancing down the list of responses, Draco locked eyes with Hermione. "Thanks for this," he said with more sincerity than she had ever seen from him. "I mean it."

As the blond boy bolted from the library, she continued to read the assigned chapters from her History of Magic textbook. Subconsciously, she smiled. She knew she had done the right thing by helping Malfoy.


	11. Bedtime Monsters

**Day 11:** Character action: A character must sleep in a bed

* * *

She tucked her son into his bed and left the room. Mere minutes went by before she heard cries of, "Mummy! Mummy!" coming from behind his closed door.

Ginny poked her head inside. "James, it's time for bed," she said as sternly as possible while still being kind.

The four-year-old boy stuck out his bottom lip. "There – there's monsters in here," he said, his eyes glistening with tears ready to be shed. "I saw one go under the bed, Mummy."

The redhead sighed in defeat and got on her hands and knees. She crawled over to the bed and looked beneath it, seeing nothing but toys and dust bunnies. She rose up on her knees and took her son's hand. "Baby, there's nothing here. I promise. No monsters."

His fears, however, were not quelled. "Don't leave me, Mummy!"

With a deep sigh, Ginny crawled in the bed beside her son. "Okay, I'll stay here with you until you fall asleep." She yawned as she rested her head on the pillow. "Maybe I'll just close my eyes for a bit."

Within minutes after she closed her eyes, both mother and child were sound asleep.


	12. The Road Not Taken

Day 12: Word: Traveled

**A/N: **The title for this one was taken, of course, from the Robert Frost poem of the same name, and this entry was also heavily inspired by that poem.

* * *

The war had ended, and she was left with two choices. She was at a fork in the road, and both ways had their appeal, but she could only take one. She could only choose one.

She could take the high road; the easy road. She could travel down the path that felt like destiny, towards the man she had always held dear to her heart. She could follow the light and go home, back to where she knew she'd always be welcomed with open arms.

Or she could challenge herself. She could move out of her comfort zone, try something new, tread down the darkened path.

A cold wind whipped around her and she pulled her cloak tighter. The fork in the road was as real as it was metaphorical. Her choices were vague, but real. The Burrow or the outside.

She took the road not taken; the path less traveled.

She had to grow up some time.


	13. Bitter and Cold

**Day 13:** Song: Not Me, Not I - Delta Goodrem

* * *

She sat by the window, blanket wrapped around her frail, shivering form as the sun was setting over London. The air that flowed through the ajar window was bitter and cold, but she didn't mind it. Somehow, it almost felt right – comforting, even – to know that it was possible to feel worse.

Someone sat beside her on the windowsill and a strong arm was around her shoulders in an instant. She leaned into him, knowing that her brother would always be there to comfort her.

"He's downstairs, you know," Ron whispered in her ear. "He asked me to come and find you."

Ginny shook her head. "I don't want to see him, or anyone."

She felt his breath against her cheek as he sighed. "You've got to come down eventually, Gin. You can't hide up in the attic forever."

"Maybe not, but I should at least be allowed a few more years."

Ron chuckled at this, but his amusement only lasted for moments. "Are you ever going to forgive him?"

She sat perfectly still for a long moment, not knowing what to say or how to respond to make her brother understand that it was over. Her decision was final and there was not going to be any discussion on the matter.

"He told me what happened," Ron said when Ginny still hadn't responded. "But, Gin, is it worth throwing everything away?"

Ginny stood, moving away from the comfort of her brother's embrace. Without looking at him, she whispered, "If you have to ask that, then he didn't tell you the whole truth."

Ron was beside her in an instant. "He said he kissed her."

The girl let out a strangled laugh. "Kissed her? He got her pregnant. Every time he would leave our flat and tell me he was spending time with you, he was really with her. I should have known better than to think that I could have ever been that important to him." She looked at him, her eyes swollen and red. "I know he's your best friend, but I can't forgive what he's done."

He hung his head in defeat. "I'll go tell him it's over."

Once the sound of his footsteps descending the stairs ceased to be heard, she let herself release a choked cry. This would be the last time she'd shed tears for him.


	14. Us Against the World

**Day 14:** Song: Cradle - Atomic Kitten

* * *

The world melted away as she remained wrapped up in his arms. Her bare chest was pressed firmly against his, and their heartbeats had formed a steady rhythm. One could not be told from the other. Everything about their bodies – their souls as well as their physical beings – was in sync. Perfect harmony.

But they were locked away from the world, safe in their own little secluded environment. No one knew where they were, nor who they were with. If anyone were to find them in such a precarious position, it would have been devastating. As long as they could stay alone and together, everything would work out fine.

"What do you suppose is going on out there?" she asked, her cheek resting below the crook of his neck and her red hair splayed over his pale white skin.

He gently traces his fingertips over the smooth skin of her back. "Does it matter?"

"I suppose not," she said, lifting up her face to get a better look at him. His pale skin and pointed features looked relaxed and less cold than usual. His blond hair was mussed and disheveled, but he was still as beautiful as ever. Painfully beautiful. "I just wish you and I could be together outside of this bloody room. I wish we didn't have to hide."

"So do I, love," he said, his lips a hair's breadth from hers.

She looked at him, her brown eyes fixed onto his piercing grey ones, studied him. Every moment that they spent together, locked away in secret, could be their last. They both knew it, but neither of them ever said it. "Don't you think it would be okay to just come out and say that we're in love?"

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"It can just be you and I, the two of us against the world. We'd make it, wouldn't we?"

"Or we could lose everything."

"But aren't I worth it?"

He didn't respond right away, only continued to look into her eyes as the tips of his fingers made their imprint into her skin. He pulled her into him, kissing her hard on the lips. It only lasted for a minute, but the sensation of tingling and burning present on their lips would continue on much longer.

She rested her head against his chest once more and wrapped her arms around his torso, pulling him tightly against her body. "Draco, I hope that one day, after the War is over, that you and I can be together."

Draco kissed the top of her head. "Me too, Gin."


	15. Heartbreak and Song

Day 15: Song: In Love Again - Rogue Traders

* * *

The last of his unshed tears slid easily down his cheek, falling and landing amidst his fingers as they pounded into the keys of his piano. He was enticed by the stark contrast of the black and white, of the distinctive sounds he could make with them, and the way that every ounce of his tension was released from his body and into the stringed instrument. It was an epiphany – a moment of catharsis, of breaking free.

He had been hurt by her, and his heart had broken in ways he hadn't ever thought possible. But he turned his heartbreak into a song, into the music of his soul. He was himself again. He had fallen in love once more, but this time through his music. The spirit and essence of love shone through every note. Though his pain was still very real, he felt none of it in that moment.

The next day, he knew, he would feel it again. The pain of losing Victoire would sink in, but he'd return to his piano. Each day that he played his piano was another day of growing stronger. Eventually, he'd move on.


	16. Silent Victory

Day 16: Character action: A character must eat Every Flavour Beans

**A/N:** I am not male, so I don't really know much of how a bunch of teenaged boys would converse about their conquests, but this was an idea that I had to go with. I apologize if their conversation seems unrealistic.

* * *

It was late, but the sixth-year Gryffindor boys' dormitory was wide awake and rambunctious as ever. Neville, Dean, Seamus, Ron and Harry all sat on their respective beds, talking with one another jovially and having a good time.

It wasn't until Ron and Neville had both fallen asleep prematurely that the conversation had begun to grow sour.

Dean was a sore spot for Harry, though he would never admit it. The other boy's relationship with Ginny was becoming increasingly _physical_ and Harry hated it when Dean would talk about it. Even though he had tried not to, Harry couldn't help how he felt for her. Dean was his friend, after all, but Harry found it frustrating that he did not understand the concepts of tact and subtlety when it came to discussing his girlfriend.

"So how far have you gotten with little Ginny?" Seamus asked, his eyebrows wiggling for emphasis.

Dean smirked and looked back and forth between both of his still-conscious dorm mates. "Just between us," he said conspiratorially, "_almost_ all the way."

Harry felt his cheeks burn and his hands clench at his sides, but he remained quiet as the other two boys continued to talk.

Seamus was smiling at Dean, clearly impressed that he had managed to get anywhere with Ginny, who had always been thought of as quite a prudish good girl. "So what's she like?" he asked eagerly.

Dean's smile only grew. "She's fearless, that one. She'd try _anything_ once."

Five minute into the conversation, Harry couldn't handle anymore. Ginny deserved more respect than they were displaying, no matter how far Ginny had gone or was willing to go with Dean, and the fact that she was going out with him at all was simply a testament to the fact that Ginny could make mistakes.

But Dean needed to be silenced – knocked down a few levels until he learned how to treat a woman like Ginny. Harry picked up his Invisibility Cloak and slipped it on without either of the other two boys noticing his sudden disappearance. Silently, he padded towards Dean's bed and stole the bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. He tapped the bag with his wand three times – a spell that he had been taught by the twins – and transformed every single bean into earwax, vomit, boogies, grass, and sardines. Then, he crept back to his bed and slipped off the cloak, still going unnoticed by the two boys engrossed in the conversation.

"So, do you think it'll happen soon then?" Seamus asked.

"By next week, for sure." Dean nodded for emphasis before – much to Harry's delight – he reached over to grab his bag of beans.

Harry watched with almost twisted amusement at Dean's disgusted expression following each bean he popped into his mouth. Ginny still wasn't his girlfriend, but at least he had this moment of silent victory to cherish until she was.


	17. Mean

**Day 17:** Song: Mean – Pink

* * *

Astoria got into her side of the bed, worrying her bottom lip as she eyed her husband cautiously. Draco's book was his sole point of focus; she may as well have not existed. She scooted beside him, nuzzling her head into his pillow. Perhaps if she paid some attention to him, he might look at her or acknowledge her in some way. It was something she was desperate for. She loved her husband, but lately he just did not seem to be interested in her in the slightest.

He turned to her. "Haven't you got your own pillow?" His grey eyes were fierce, cold, and unforgiving.

With a subtle and apologetic nod, she turned away. She thought about when they had first been married. Their relationship had been so intense and physical. There had been a time in which she had always felt wanted. He used to make her feel desired, but not anymore. Now they barely spoke; their intimacy had gone out the window.

"I got a letter from our son," he said, sounding somewhat interested, though not interested enough to turn his attention from his book.

Astoria sat up and looked at Draco. "Is everything all right with him?"

"He's made Seeker for Slytherin House, and the Potter boy in his year has made it for Gryffindor."

Her face fell immediately. "Oh, well that's wonderful that he's made it, but don't you think it unwise to pit the two against each other?"

That grabbed his attention. He shut his book with a snap and set his narrowed eyes to her face, now broken with intimidation. "I did not pit our son against Potter's son, and your insinuation otherwise is quite unwelcome."

Meekly, she responded, "I just thought that, perhaps, we should encourage them to be friends."

"I think that, perhaps, you should continue to do what your best at, rather than question my parenting decisions." He picked up his book, once again making her his secondary focus. "Sit around all day and look pretty, Astoria. That's what you're good for. Don't try to think anymore."

She bit her lip again. This was their relationship now. He was always right, she was always wrong, and she shouldn't even bother with trying to make conversation. That was her marriage. She just couldn't remember when he had got to be so mean.


	18. Lesson Learned

**Day 18:** Quote: "We can draw lessons from the past, but we cannot live in it" - Lyndon Johnson

* * *

It was the hardest thing he ever had to do, but he was determined to do it. It was all a part of his new philosophy and a way to make right all of the things he had done wrong. Even though this had all begun as a favor to his girlfriend, a way to make her family peaceably accept their relationship, it had since turned into much more than that. Now it was for him, and it was for them.

He had never been to the Burrow before, and he had always thought that if and when he did go, it would have been because Ginny dragged him along and forced him to have dinner with her family. But that wasn't the case. He was there on his own, and it was because he needed to be.

Filled with trepidation, Draco knocked at the back door of the house. A part of him – the snobbish, pureblooded, rich prat part – wanted to turn up his nose in disgust at the sight of the place. It was nowhere near large enough to house a family that size, or any size. But it was Ginny's home and he knew it meant the world to her, so he took a deep breath and kept his expression neutral.

A plump redheaded woman that he immediately recognized as Molly Weasley answered the door. Draco knew that Mrs. Weasley was aware of the fact that he had been seeing her only daughter, but he also knew that she didn't like it. It was, therefore, no surprise to him that her face fell immediately at the sight of him.

Draco swallowed hard. "Mrs. Weasley, may I come in?" he asked, trying his best to keep his voice even without sounding rude.

"My daughter is not here, young man," she said harshly. "Ever since she began seeing you, she hasn't come around as much."

The blond knew this to be true. Ginny had been truly upset at how unwelcome her entire family had been at the idea of them getting together. But while Draco completely understood why Ginny was upset, he also could not truly blame her family for their uncertainty of whether or not Draco could be trusted. "I'm here to see you, Mrs. Weasley," he responded gently. "And Mr. Weasley, and anyone else who is here."

She raised an eyebrow, a gesture which allowed Draco to truly see the resemblance between mother and daughter. Molly stepped aside, leaving the door open wide. "Come on in, then. We were just sitting down for tea."

He walked past her and into the kitchen where, just as she had said, a few members of the Weasley clan were situated and waiting for tea. He recognized them all – Mr. Weasley, Ron, Hermione, Bill, and his wife, Fleur. He was both pleased and mortified that the two people he needed to talk to the most were both there.

Everybody looked up as Draco entered the room. Each person had mixed expressions of curiosity and annoyance on their faces. Like Molly, they all knew of Ginny's relationship with Draco, and they also had similar feelings.

Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat. "Arthur, everybody," she said, "Mr. Malfoy has something he'd like to tell us."

Ron stood. "I swear if you've got my sister pregnant –"

"No!" Draco said, interrupting his former nemesis before he got too heated and made promises of pain and torture that the blond didn't know if he could refrain from responding to. "I mean, no, it's nothing like that."

Ron sat back down and placed a protective arm around Hermione.

"Then why are you here, son?" Arthur asked.

The blond man took a deep breath and considered his words carefully before he began speaking. He wanted to make sure he said everything he needed to, but he also wanted to make sure that he did so respectfully. He wanted there to be no mistaking his intentions or his sincerity. "I'm sure that, by now, you've all heard that Ginny and I have been seeing each other, and I know that none of you really like it."

Ron snorted, but was promptly smacked in the arm by Hermione.

"But, believe it or not, I really do care for her, and if there's one thing I know about Ginny, it's that family is everything to her."

"You're the one who has torn her away from us, Malfoy," Bill said, his voice low and dangerous.

"With all due respect, that was her decision," Draco responded reasonably. "But to be completely honest, I'm not here to talk about Ginny, although I'd gladly discuss the nature of our relations if any of you have concerns."

Hermione bit her lip. "Malfoy? If you're not here to talk about Gin, then why are you here?"

Draco gave her a brief, almost indiscernible nod of gratitude. He wanted to get to the point, and he was thankful that there was at least one person at the table who had an interest in hearing him out. "I realize that I did a lot of stupid things during my last few years of school. Up until this point, I've used the excuse that I was under a lot of pressure, and that's true, but I know that what I did was inexcusable. Bill, it was my fault that Greyback attacked you, and Ron, it was my fault that you were nearly killed. And, for both of those things, as well as for any addition grief I have caused your family, I do apologize."

He let go of a breath that he didn't realize he had been holding. What he had said went completely against everything he had stood for, and calling Ron by his first name had been one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do, but he'd done it. He'd said what needed said, and more than anything he felt a mixture of relief and nervousness. The people at the table before him could accept this apology, or they could tell him that it meant nothing to them. Either way, he had done what he could; the rest was up to them. He was done with living in the past; he'd learned his lesson.

* * *

**A/N:** Don't hate me for leaving this open ended, but I felt like the story didn't need to go any farther. The point is that he had apologized, not whether or not the Weasleys accept it.


	19. Ever After

Day 19: Genre: Romance

**A/N:** I am going to apologize in advance for the content of this chapter. This is your only warning for the ridiculousness that is about to ensue. Please do not comment and tell me this is ridiculous. I am aware, but this is how the prompt inspired me. :)

* * *

The instant their eyes met, it was like time stopped. They saw each other from a distance. They were on a public beach, but there were few people around, despite the fact that it was a beautiful summer afternoon. It did not matter to either of them if anyone saw. They only cared that there was a clear path between them.

In slow motion, they ran to each other. The sand beneath them kicked up around their bare feet as they moved. Each of them had their arms extended to the other, preparing them both for an intense embrace.

After what seemed like forever, Luna and Neville reached each other. Their arms, which had been outstretched to one another since the previous paragraph, wrapped easily around one another. Luna's hair was blowing in the wind and Neville had become ridiculously handsome since the last time they had seen each other. It was like _Gone With the Wind_ as they kissed, with dramatic music rising in the background. It was their first kiss, and it was epically perfect.

And they lived happily ever after. The end.


	20. Wasn't Me

**Day 20**: Genre: Mystery

* * *

Six-year-old Lily Luna Potter knew something wasn't quite right. Every week, she would Floo to Honeydukes with her mum, and every week, her mum would purchase a parcel filled with cherry-flavored sugar quills, just for her. Lily would always have one that afternoon, and the rest would be set aside to satisfy her craving for the sweet candy for the remainder of the week.

The problem was, the next morning, they would all be gone.

Lily knew that _she_ wasn't the one finishing off all of the cherry sugar quills, but it could have been anybody else. Cherry was the best flavor, after all. Everyone knew that.

So, for weeks, Lily searched for evidence – red tongues, sticky fingers, candy wrappers – but she could find nothing incriminating. Until, finally, she came up with a plan.

It was nearly half midnight, and little Lily Potter was sitting on the steps, hiding herself in the shadows. She had just gone with her mum to purchase a fresh batch of quills, and Lily just knew that tonight she would be able to catch the culprit in the act.

Quietly, she sat. She had been there for hours, and there had yet to be any sign of action near the box of sugar quills. Her eyelids became heavier and heavier; she didn't think she could stay awake much longer, but the sound of heavy footsteps awoke her abruptly from her slumber. It only took a moment before she heard the distinct, cacophonous sound of crinkling candy wrappers.

Like a fox, she darted into the kitchen. It was the last person she had suspected.

"Daddy!" she cried, staring at her father pointedly. "You're the one who's been eating my cherry quills?"

Harry gulped down the bite of candy that had been in his mouth before half-heartedly hiding the evidence in his hand behind his back. "Wasn't me."

The look given to him by his daughter could have melted solid steel.


	21. Satisfaction

Day 21: Genre: Adventure

* * *

She ran.

Her feet pounded onto the ground as fast as her legs could carry her. She wanted to turn around, to see if he was gaining on her, but she was too afraid to know, too afraid to compromise the lead that she had to him by turning around. All it would take was a split second; this was nothing more than a game of inches.

Her breaths were rapid and shallow. Though she was running mainly on adrenaline, she could sense her body growing more and more tired as she got deeper and deeper into the forest, which was becoming more and more dense. She didn't think that she'd be able to hold on for too much longer. She didn't know if it was even worth it. She was wandless and defenseless, and he could Apparate to her in a second if he so chose to. This was nothing more than a game to her. He had her on the ropes, and there was nothing she could do but run.

But then her world came tumbling around her.

She tripped as her foot caught on a tree branch. She fell flat onto her face, sprawled out on the dirty forest floor with no time to recover.

She could sense him standing over her. A hand was placed over her back, grabbing a handful of her shirt and pulling her roughly to her feet. Another hand was tugged on her hair, yanking her head back so that she would be forced to look him in the eye.

"It looks like I've caught myself a Weasley, haven't I?"

Ginny pulled and tugged, trying to force herself free of his tightening grip, but her attempt was fruitless. "Please," she begged. "Please, let me go!"

He laughed, his voice cold and hollow. "And why should I do that?"

"Because I won't be of any use to you like this," she cried, still attempting to shrug herself loose. "I can't help you!"

"So you think I should just kill you then?" the man asked, his voice cold and almost amused. "If you will be of no use, there is no reason for you to live." He paused, grinning sadistically at the defenseless girl in his arms. "Unless you tell me what I want to know."

She felt his wand against her throat. She knew there was no chance that he would release her, and there was certainly no way that he would she would be able to escape him again. It was hopeless.

The redhead swallowed hard. "I won't tell you," she replied, her voice as steady and even as possible. "I won't tell you where Harry is. I don't _know_ where Harry is! But I'll never be able to find him if I am being held like this, so please just let me go!"

With one last valiant attempt at freeing herself, Ginny lunged forward. Much to her surprise, she landed on the hard ground, her hands coming out to break her fall in the last second. The sickening crack of her wrists snapping from the pressure rang clearly through her mind. She yelped in pain as she turned onto her back.

Without hesitation, she closed her eyes. The cold, red eyes of Tom Riddle would not be the last sight she'd see before she died. She would not allow him the satisfaction.


	22. Time

**Day 22:** Quote: When the apple is ripe, it will fall." – unknown

* * *

She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, watching as her daughter stood before the mirror, dressed entirely in white with her wavy red locks pinned up beneath her veil. Though she had been through this before with her other children, this time it was entirely different. This was her baby– her only little girl – and it was time for her to grow up and begin her new life.

Concealing another sniff, Molly Weasley approached her daughter. It was time.

"Oh, Ginny," the older woman said, fighting to keep her voice steady. "You look beautiful, darling."

The younger girl turned and smiled at her mother. "Thanks, Mum."

Molly touched a gentle hand to her daughter's cheek. "I just can't believe how grown up you are!"

Ginny could do nothing but smile at the immense joy that filled every girl's heart on their wedding day.

Wordlessly, the Weasley matriarch burst into tears, bringing Ginny into a tight embrace. She wasn't ready for this, to allow her daughter to truly become a woman. But she had to. Pride swelled in her chest at the woman Ginny had become, and though it was difficult, she knew it was time.

Ginny wasn't a little girl anymore.


	23. Sea of Grief

**Day 23:** Genre: Family

* * *

Staring down into the open space, Ginny shuddered. This was it; this was his destination.

A steady stream of tears rolled down her cheek as she watched, her mind racing with unbidden thoughts of sadness and regret. It was in that moment that she realized how much things had changed, how drastically the War had affected her life. Not only had it stolen her innocence and naivety, but it had also taken away a vital part of her heart.

Fred was gone, never to return to her. Not ever.

It seemed like hours had gone by since they began lowering his coffin into the ground. Desperately, she wanted to look away. It was all too painful, too heartbreaking, and even though she was surrounded by her family and friends, she still felt like she was alone in this.

Almost as though on cue, two sets of arms wrapped around either side of her. To her right was Ron, and to her left was George.

Her resolve broke. Her normal façade of being tough and fierce fell to pieces as she allowed herself to lose control – to release the anguish and sorrow which had been plaguing her since the moment she first realized that a part of her family had left her – had been taken from her. She felt her brothers squeeze her even closer, pulling her in and giving her tangible evidence that they weren't going anywhere.

A part of her began to feel better, and it made her feel guilty. She knew, though, that Fred wouldn't want that. He wouldn't want her to mourn him and to lose herself in a sea of grief.

He would want her to be strong, just as he had taught her to be.


	24. Better Than Me

**Day 24:** Song: I Will Be - Leona Lewis

* * *

She was an angel in disguise; he knew it.

Her red hair shimmered in the sunlight, streaming down her back like fire. She was beautiful in every way – her face, her personality, and in a way that was distinctly _her_. She made him want to be a better person, to distinguish himself from who his father had been. She made him come alive.

The wind swept his hair back, revealing his pointed, aristocratic features. His face was yet another indication of how much he was like his father, as was his posture and the way he carried himself. He _was_ his father – a Malfoy in name and in stature. But he was more than that, and it was all because of the her. The redheaded girl who came from a long line of Weasley blood - dirty and tainted. But she wasn't either of those things. In his mind, she was perfect.

It was in that instance that she turned, her profile revealed to him. She looked so much like her mother that it was uncanny – same hair, same eyes, same face. Same smile.

Her feet were dangling over the ledge as she sat atop the wall of the Astronomy Tower. He had warned her that she shouldn't sit up there, least of all with the treacherous winds blowing, but she had insisted she'd be fine. She was, after all, a Gryffindor at heart. She grinned cheekily at him, showing off her ability to remain calm and collected. She was certainly much braver than he was. He was nothing more than a coward, whereas she was as fierce as a lion.

The blond boy sat beside her, facing the opposite direction, his feet firmly planted on the floor of the tower. This was as big of a risk as he'd be willing to take. He glanced at her from out of the corner of his eye, studying her discreetly. She was so carefree and reckless that it made him nervous and envious at the same time.

"Afraid, are you?" she teased, reading is expression easily.

He hated how well she understood him, but it did provide even more distance between himself and his predecessors. His father and grandfather both hid themselves behind a mask, compartmentalizing themselves and their emotions, isolating them both from anyone who may have wanted to get close. But he wasn't like that. He wanted to be close to someone, to have someone understand him in every way.

"I think you're mad, is all," he responded, the corners of his lips upturned only the slightest bit. It was the only indication of his amusement, but he knew she would understand. She always did.

With a roll of her eyes, she whipped her body around to face the inside of the tower. "Is that better?" she asked.

"Yes." He looked down. "I know it's going to sound ridiculous coming from me, but I don't think I can stand the idea that something could happen to you."

"Nothing is going to happen," she replied, shrugging off his concern easily. She hopped off the ledge, sauntering towards the staircase that led into the castle. "Besides, you're clever. You'd have found a way to catch me before I fell all the way down." She winked at him before disappearing.

He suppressed his amusement as he watched her descend the staircase, but he knew it was true. Being without her – merely the idea of it – scared him senseless. For the rest of his life, he knew he'd never let anything happen to her, not if he could help it.

Lily was his dream - an angel in disguise. She made him better than he was.


	25. Heal

**Day 25:** Genre: Spiritual

**A/N:** This is a bit of a companion to the story from Day 23. You do not need to read that one to understand this one, but if you've read both, you'll definitely see the connection between them. That said, I'm not sure if I did a good job with this genre, but this is what I thought of and I thought it was too good of an idea to ignore!

* * *

It was a surreal experience for him to watch his own funeral from another plane of existence and to see the people he loved in mourning.

Mourning. For him. Fred.

This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. He wasn't supposed to die when he was only twenty, and he certainly was not supposed to leave behind his brothers and his sister and his parents. He wasn't done yet. He wasn't done playing jokes and causing trouble. There were still things he needed to do.

He looked to his little sister standing before his grave, watching as they shoveled dirt atop his coffin. She was crying, and Fred could almost feel his heart breaking as he observed. Ginny wasn't supposed to be the one to break down and cry. Not her, not the strong one. She was supposed to be the one to stand tall and to not lose herself in grief.

Fred turned away from the scene. In his heart, he could feel the pain that his family felt and he was able to sense when his brothers engulfed Ginny into a comforting embrace. Somehow, he knew what everyone was doing and how everyone was feeling, even without looking.

It was with that sense and that knowledge that he knew they'd move on eventually. He knew that George would survive and that Ginny would return to normal soon enough. His family would always miss him, and they would never forget him, but they would all heal once they were able to.

Time would heal all of their wounds as soon as they let it.


	26. Give it a Squeeze

**Day 26:** Character action: A character must use a Muggle artifact

* * *

"And this, son, this is a rubber duck!" Arthur Weasley explained excitedly. "From what Harry has told me, it's a kind of toy that Muggles like to use when they take baths. Fascinating, isn't it?"

Draco Malfoy was not amused. When his girlfriend had informed him that her father had wanted to get to know him a bit better, he never expected that that task would involve an afternoon of playing with Muggle contraptions. Though he had become less of a bigot during the time in which he and Ginny had been together, he still had no interest in Muggles _or_ their bath toys.

"It's wonderful, sir," the blond boy muttered with gritted teeth.

Either Arthur was oblivious to Draco's lack of enthusiasm or he chose to ignore it. He went on. "But my favorite part is that it squeaks when you give it a squeeze!" He handed the duck to Draco. "Come on, then. Give it a try!"

Hesitantly, and with as close to a grin that he could muster from his grimace, Draco accepted the rubber duck from his girlfriend's father. Even if Draco was a right git, he had to do what he had to do.

He gave it a squeeze.


	27. I Fall To Pieces

**Day 27:** Word: Night

* * *

The stars twinkling in the sky were the only source of light during that night. She stood out on the balcony, looking up into the nearly pitch black abyss, studying it as though it were the assigned reading from her Astronomy textbook.

She was on the Astronomy tower, anyway.

But it was too much for her to be inside the castle, to see him with _her_. It broke her heart, but she was too proud to admit it to anyone else. It was not in her nature to cry like she wanted to, to fall to pieces, because that would have been too easy.

She didn't do easy.

To see him with _her_ – someone she trusted, someone who she had always considered to be a close friend – tore her to shreds.

But the worst part was that _she_ knew how he felt about him. Rose _knew_ that she had fancied Scorpius since the minute she first laid eyes on him.

Lily couldn't bear to see them together. Not again. Not without falling to pieces.


	28. NoParking Zone Outtake

**Day 28:** Character action: Character must talk to a Muggle

**A/N:** I wrote a drabble for another collection that involved Draco and Ginny driving in a car and Draco getting arrested for parking in a no-parking zone. It resulted in Lucius having to come in and bail Draco out of jail. This would be the outtake! If you're interested in reading the original, it is from Stuck on You and is entry number five!

* * *

He looked out of place, even in Muggle attire.

His long blond hair flowed down his back as he entered the Muggle courthouse. His chin was held proudly in the air as he held onto his snakehead walking stick. He was the epitome of aristocratic superiority in every sense – in look, in attitude, and in air.

The young clerk gulped audibly at the sight of Lucius Malfoy; the man was intimidating even outside the Wizarding world. "Can – can – may I help you, sir?" the boy stuttered.

If it were possible, Lucius's chin would have been lifted even further into the air. "I've come to retrieve my son," the older man said, eyeing the clerk with disdain. "Draco Malfoy."

The boy nodded in understanding. "You – you've come to – to post bail, you mean?"

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Yes, boy, I've come to post bail." He set a briefcase on the counter. "I'm not sure how many pounds you require for his release, but I assure you that I have more than the adequate funds to procure his discharge."

With uncertainty, the clerk opened the briefcase. His eyes went wide at the sight of the money within. "Yes – yes sir," he said, still stumbling over his words as the blond man's scrutinizing gaze continued to pass through him. He attempted to count the money in the case in his mind. "Well, it – it was only a – a traffic ticket, you see. It's – it's only about a quarter of – of what you've got he – here."

Fighting to remain composed, Lucius rolled his eyes. "For bloody goodness sake, child, just take the damned money so I can get _out_ of here!"

After much more stumbling over words and fingers trembling while counting bills, Lucius finally got the bumbling Muggle boy to release Draco from the jail cell. A giggling Ginny followed behind the Malfoy men as Draco was dragged out of the building by his ear.

Once they were clear from the building and into an Apparition-safe alley, Lucius looked at his son and his girlfriend with extreme irritation. "You're lucky that Malfoy blood is too pure to be sitting in a Muggle prison."

He Apparated away, leaving behind an embarrassed Draco and a cackling Ginny.


	29. Last Dance

**Day 29:** Song: The Last Song – Rihanna

* * *

It was the end – her hand on his shoulder, his hand on her waist, their fingers entwined. The music played softly and slowly, drifting through the crowded room of the night club. It had been their place – their sanctuary – where they could be together without interruption or speculating eyes.

And they danced. They moved, completely in sync. Their bodies controlled their impulses; they could not look away from each other, could not bear to break eye contact. All they had left were these few moments – this one dance, this last song – before they would have to go their separate ways. They didn't have a choice. They were too different, from completely isolated worlds. They could never mix.

The music stopped. He pressed his lips to hers. The tingle of her lips lasted long after he had gone.

A single tear fell down her cheek.

"Goodbye, Draco."


	30. Different

**Day 30:** Word: Injured

* * *

The blond boy was lying in the hospital bed, thoroughly embarrassed and irritated about the events of the day. Bloody _Potter_ always had to show him up, and this time it had got him injured. That bloody bird. Surely his father would love to hear about this incident.

As he sat, miserably stewing in his exasperation, he heard the door to the hospital wing open. He looked up and immediately rolled his eyes at the sight of the person who had entered the room.

The Weasley girl.

But she looked different – tired, worn, more down to Earth. He had heard quite a lot of rumors about her and the Chamber of Secrets during the year before, but he had always dismissed them. Surely a blood traitor like her would never hurt Muggleborns. But now – now that he'd seen her again – he realized that there was definitely something changed about the way she looked and in the way she carried herself.

She was suddenly much more interesting.

"Madam Pomfrey," the Weasley girl said upon seeing the matron. "I was wondering if I could get some Dreamless Sleep Potion. I – I –"

"Yes, of course, Miss Weasley," Pomfrey replied, urgently moving towards her office to fetch what the girl had requested.

The redhead began looking around the Hospital Wing, eyes obviously searching, but for nothing in particular. And then, for the briefest of moments, they met – her glowing brown orbs and his piercingly grey ones.

Draco tried to pretend that he hadn't seen her, but when she began walking towards him, he knew that it was too late to pretend to be sleeping.

"What are you doing in here, Malfoy?" she asked, eyeing his arm briefly.

He rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm injured, aren't I?" he quipped, desperately trying to pretend that her presence was unwelcome.

"Doesn't look too bad to me," she said, shrugging. "Quidditch accident?"

"_No_, that bloody ugly bird nearly took my arm off!"

She lifted an eyebrow. "You don't mean Hagrid's hippogriff, do you? Buckbeak is very friendly. You must have insulted him."

Draco crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, what do you know?"

"Just what I hear Harry say to Hermione and Ron."

Though he pretended to be disinterested in what she was saying, he could help but be intrigued at the way she had worded her answer. What Potter says to his friends – not what they said to her. He took another look at her, now fully conscious of how different she appeared since the last time he had seen her. He'd never paid a whole lot of attention to her, but even he could tell that she had come a long way from the girl he had seen in Flourish and Blotts a year before – tomboyish and spirited with a dirty face.

"So, what happened to you?" Draco asked before he could stop himself.

Her eyes snapped to his, squinting as she attempted to decipher what he had meant by that question. After a long moment, her expression eased and she could no longer look directly at him. "I guess I just have trouble sleeping these days."

Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office a second later, looking around frantically for Ginny, who had rushed across the room to greet the matron.

Draco watched the girl as she thanked Pomfrey and took her dose of the potion. Something had happened to the girl – something life changing and earth shattering.

And he wanted to know what it was.


	31. Accusations and Apologies

**Day 31:** Word: Accusing

This is dedicated to Ash, my lovely challenge hostess (and future DG shipper!), because I tried to write a fic collection that was not so heavy on the DG, and I failed. This will be a Romione – just for her! ;)

* * *

The brunette stared at the redhead – arms crossed and foot tapping in irritation – as he entered their house. It was well past three in the morning, and she had been worried sick about her husband. Perhaps it wouldn't have been so terrible if they had not had such an awful row before he had left, but even still, it was not like him to just disappear and not come back until the wee hours of the morning.

"Hello," he said, his expression nearly vacant. "I didn't think you would still be awake at this hour."

"Well, it's not likely that I'd go to sleep when I've got no idea where you are, is it?" she returned. Even though she was still rather angry at him, she was still also glad to see that he was all right. "So, where have you been all this time?"

He crossed to the other side of the room, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water. After taking a swallow, he turned back to face his wife. "I was out with Harry."

She narrowed her eyes and began tapping her foot more rapidly. "So, you expect me to believe that Ginny was perfectly all right with Harry being out this late?"

The tall redhead shrugged. "Dunno. I was out with just Harry, wasn't I?"

"I don't know. Were you?"

The question hung in the air for a long moment – long enough for her husband to clearly understand the insinuation and subsequently display a variety of expressions on his, changing like rapid fire. First, he was confused, and then shocked, and then hurt, and then angry. He finally settled on angry.

"Are you accusing me of something, Hermione?" he asked, taking a step closer. "Because I'm pretty well sick and tired of your insecurities about our marriage."

She raised her eyebrows. "I'm glad to know that you're sick of me, Ronald."

"That's not what I said, and you bloody well know it! I just can't understand why you've got so little trust in me. Have I ever – _ever_ – given you any reason at all to think that you can't trust me? Have I ever hurt you in any way, at all?"

Hermione bit her lip as the backs of her eyes began to sting with unshed tears. "No, it's just – I just love you so damned much, and I always get so afraid that you're going to leave me and not come back." Her voice cracked, sending her to the edge of her emotions. "I didn't mean what I said, you know. I don't really think you'd lie to me, or be unfaithful. I was just upset."

After looking at her for another long moment, Ron's expression finally softened, and he moved forward to gather his wife up in his arms. "It's my fault, too," he whispered. "I'm sorry, too."

"It's just, with the baby on the way, I know my emotions are going to be a bit nuts…"

"Yeah," Ron agreed.

"Yeah."

They stayed together for a long moment, holding each other contentedly, when Ron suddenly froze and pulled away from his wife. "With the _what _on the way?"


	32. What I See

**Day 32:** Word: Differ

**A/N:** It looks like this is going to be my final entry for now. Hopefully, one day I'll come back and finish this, as I really do love this collection, but this is as far as I'm going to go for now. Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed!

* * *

They were about as similar as fire and ice, and they got along about as well as oil and water, but there was something about the way his eyes lit up when he saw her, and the way that heart skipped a beat when he was nearby, that told them everything they needed to know.

She stole a quick glance from him as he took his regular seat in her café. He had begun frequenting the restaurant about a year after she had become a waitress, and he had always taken care to come in during her shift on Thursday afternoons. He would sit in her section and read the Daily Prophet until she saw that he had come in, and then when she approached him, he'd always act surprised to see that she'd worked there.

"Well, if it isn't Miss Weasley," he said. "Fancy seeing you here."

She rolled her eyes at him. "You see me here every week, Malfoy," she answered, pouring him a cup of black coffee. "You want your usual?"

"Yes, please."

With a slight grin, she walked away. His eyes never left her until she was completely out of sight. It had always astonished him that, even though she never seemed to be looking in his direction, she always knew when to come by and give his mug a refill. She was good at what she did, and he always made sure he'd leave her at least ten galleons for a tip, along with his Floo information written on a small scrap of parchment.

Lost in thought, he barely registered that she had returned with his plate of bacon and eggs and had taken a seat on the opposite side of his booth, an eyebrow raised in question.

"Thank you?" he prompted, unsure of why she was staring at him.

"All right, Malfoy," she said, her voice even. "For months now, you've come in during my Thursday shift, and you just sit here and stare at me while I work. I want to know what it is that you're playing at here. We both know full well that you've got some reason, and I am tired of the games. I want to know what you're doing."

He stared at her for a long moment, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "Maybe I just like seeing you."

She gave a very unladylike snort. "Please. I'm not that thick."

His expression dropped and his eyes narrowed. "I wasn't lying, Weasley – I do like seeing you – but I suppose that I'm mainly just intrigued about why a girl like you works in a place like this."

She shrugged. "Maybe I just like it here."

"No, you don't," he said, not giving her the opportunity to elaborate any further on her statement. "The only time you even smile at all is when you and I exchange our regular greeting, or when you take a second to glance at me and you realize I've never stopped looking at you, or when you come by to clean off the table and you see that I left my usual for you."

He watched as her expression turned from nonchalance to irritation to the slightest hint of bashfulness. "I never realized that you ever paid so much attention to me, Scorpius."

"Yes, well, maybe if you opened your eyes every now and again, you'd see that you're better than what you've settled for, Rose." He set his arm across the table, palm up in offering. "Maybe if you opened your eyes, you'd see how beautiful you are. You would see what I see."

After a long moment, she hesitantly placed her hand in his.


End file.
